


Camp Freewill

by Lindylaura



Category: Supernatural
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, BAMF Castiel, Badass!Castiel, Fluff, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Possibility for more chapters, Smirky!Castiel, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-10-25
Updated: 2015-10-25
Packaged: 2018-04-28 00:14:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,922
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5070415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lindylaura/pseuds/Lindylaura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Based on a tumblr image I will post below.<br/>Dean serves community service as a camp counselor at "Camp Freewill"! Castiel Novak is his mysterious and seemingly badass, sexy roommate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

[ ](http://tinypic.com?ref=xao2yx)

 

“I still can’t believe you’re doing this, man.” Sam says, followed by another doubtful laugh.  
“It’s not like I want to,” Dean says angrily. “I can’t believe dad couldn’t get me out of this. I mean seriously? Community service?”  
“I mean, it’s not like you don’t deserve it… You brought a freaking knife to school Dean.” Sam tries to hide another laugh,  
“Well of course I did, you did too!” Dean says gruffly.  
“Yeah but I didn’t threaten a teacher with it.” Sam replies.  
“The dick had it coming! You saw the way he was staring at us guys in gym…” Dean shudders. “It was just wrong, man. I mean he’s older than dad.” Sam smiles at Dean.  
“Thank god I never had him. Well looks like your uh, ride is here…” Sam trails off as a large school bus pulls up with bright letters painted on the side reading “Camp Freewill” and Dean lets out a long groan, and Sam continues,  
“Have fun!”  
“Bitch.” Dean looks at Sam with a glare.  
“Jerk!” Sam replies with a lighthearted smile, and Dean gets on the bus.

 

* * *

 

“And that’s everything you need to know, camp counselors!” says a woman with a chipper voice and bright coloured scarves worked into her outfit in every way possible, around her neck, in her hair, tied through a belt loop.. Endless bright colors. Dean tries to follow the other counselors, but doesn’t get very far when he hears, “you! Excuse me! In the plaid!” the obnoxiously happy voice follows him and a hand with perfectly filed nails clamped down on his arm. Dean stops and turns around with an obviously fake smile on his face.

“Yes?” he says, trying his best to imitate the exuberant voice. The woman’s smile falters as she catches onto Dean’s mocking tone, but she plasters a smile on even brighter. “Listen here you little shit.” her voice even peppier than before as she hisses into his ear. “I’m doing this job because it pays double what Biggersons offers for people my age. I was going to recap what you missed because you were late doing god knows what with that little hussy you showed up to our little powwow with, but now I’m going to send you to your cabin and you’ll have to just figure out the rest on your own. Got it shithead?” Dean smirked,

“I think I’m starting to like you, babe.” The smile dropped from her face and the hand on Dean’s wrist grew tighter until he could feel the precisely filed nailed digging into his skin through this shirt, and this time it was the smile on his face that started to fade. He was about to say something when she shoved his arm away from her hard enough to make him stumble.

“Cabin Ten. And my name isn’t ‘babe’. It’s Meg.” The cheerful voice was back but her bright smile didn’t reach her eyes as she pointed towards the cabin furthest away from the rest.

“Great, thanks.” Dean murmurs as he walks towards the cabin, shifting his heavy bag on his shoulder. Walking to the cabin, he tried as little as possible to look around. Dean hesitates at the doorway, only now considering the fact that he might have a roommate. How is he supposed to bring chicks back to his room if he has a roommate? The idea annoys him, and he slams the door open. At first he doesn’t see anyone, and he feels a bit embarrassed about the dramatic entrance. He takes a hesitant step in, and jumps when the door closes behind him. Dean spins around to see a brunet a few inches shorter than him leaning against the door. Dean stares at him, and for the first time while looking at another guy, he feels a twitch in his pants. He realizes he hasn’t said anything yet, so he stutters out,

“well, uh… top or bottom?” he looks up and rubs his mouth, realizing how stupid that sounded. But the brunet smirks at him and walks over until he’s only a foot away from Dean, and he leans in until their faces are almost touching.

“Top.” He whispers, his breath smells like whisky and toothpaste. Dean jumps back and glances quickly at the bunkbeds beside them. He looks back at the brunet when he laughs loudly, “Oh wait—you meant the bunkbeds. Bottom, please.” He leans in again, and continues, “My name is Castiel, by the way. Castiel Novak.”

_This is going to be an interesting summer._


	2. Moonlit Trenchcoat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A boring night in the cabin turns into a walk in the woods, with a bit of alcohol to help the boys along.

The campers weren’t coming till the day after tomorrow, and the real orientation wasn’t until tomorrow, so the counselors had the options of either entertaining themselves, or going to the “meet and greet counselor dance!” both Dean and Castiel decided on the previous option. Now Dean was laying on the top bunk, blasting music through the crappy headphones he stole from some joker at school in detention. His eyes are closed, but he feels the bunk shake and when he opens his eyes he sees Castiel staring at him, a sexy smirk on his face.

“You just gunna stay here all night? Or are you get your lazy ass up, and come with me?” he turns around, pulling an old trench coat on and grabbing a black backpack. Dean hears bottles clinking inside the bag as Castiel reaches into it. He pulls two bottles out, of what Dean can’t tell but he remembers the slight scent of whisky from earlier. The bottles seem to disappear as Castiel turns around, and Dean scrambles up, swinging his legs over the edge of the bunk and dropping to the ground. He grabs his own jacket, an old beat up leather thing that’s slightly too big for him and tugs it on. Castiel is already out the door by the time Dean’s got his jacket on so he runs to follow him.

“Where are we going?” Castiel is a few meters away from Dean when he asks, but it’s almost like Castiel doesn’t hear him as he continues walking. Dean caught up until he was only a few steps behind Castiel, staring as his back as they walk in silence. The distant voices of the other counselors who were hanging out at the kumbaya campfire, but the voices are getting quieter as the two walk off the pathway and into some woods. Just as Dean was starting to getting worried he was walking right into some slasher film, he noticed how the light from the moon filtered through the trees and hit Castiel perfectly. It was almost ethereal the way it made him glow, angelic even, and his nerves died down.

Dean watches Castiel’s back, tripping a few times on the wooded ground. They continued on in silence, Castiel seeming to never trip as his trench coated form almost floats in front of Dean. Finally Dean can’t take it anymore, and he closes the distance between them, grabbing at the edge of the untied belt by Castiel’s waist. Castiel hesitates, and then Dean hears a low chuckle, as he turns around. He pulls a bottle out of his coat, and offers it to Dean,

“Drink up!” he pulls his own out, and takes a gulp without so much of a flinch. Dean doesn’t even look at the bottle as he holds it up to his mouth, taking as big a sip as Castiel did and trying to hide his grimace as it burns its way down his throat. He looks at Castiel, and feels another twitch down below so he takes another swig to calm himself. He begins to lower the bottle, but as Castiel smirks at him he thinks better of it and takes a couple more sips. Each time it was easier to hide the cringe from the tingle of fire in his throat. As he watched Castiel take another mouthful, he feels the fire spreading from his stomach, making its way up his throat, straight up to his head. He almost regrets the next few swallows, as he begins to feel a bit lightheaded, but as Castiel takes yet another unflinching, long sip from his own bottle, he can’t help but take another, not wanting to be beat out by a guy who was shorter and lankier than himself. Castiel laughs and takes a few backward steps.

“Just how far are we going?” Dean asks Castiel, still holding onto the end of the belt. He feels it start to slip from his fingers as Castiel continues to back up, so he follows him further. He tilts his head back to take another sip from his bottle, and almost bumps right into Castiel when he’s swallowing. Castiel has stopped right in front of him, and Dean starts coughing as he tries to back away. Castiel’s hand reaches around Dean and clamps down under his jacket on the small of his back, pulling him back in. Almost chest to chest now, Castiel whispers,

“Sorry, Dean. I’ve never really been one for personal space.” He leans forward and licks one of Dean’s fingers, which is covered in coughed up whisky. He smirks again, which seems to be a signature move of his now, and stares into Dean’s eyes. Castiel’s piercing blue, against Dean’s intense green. Dean momentarily gets lost in those eyes, staring into them and willing Castiel to move forward, to close the already miniscule gap between their faces. It seems like Castiel is about to do just that, when a voice from the direction they came from calls out,

“Who’s out there? You know you aren’t supposed to be out and about on the grounds! You’re either to be in your cabin, or at the fire! And the fire’s ending now, so I expect you to go back to your cabins right now, and I won’t get you in trouble!” it was the annoying voice from early, penetrating the silent night air with its insufferable optimism. Castiel laughed, a pleasant sound that seemed to bounce off the trees and fill the night air, even though it seemed so quiet coming from his lips. He closes the distance, and lightly pecks Dean on the corner of his mouth, pulling back and taking the bottle from his hands. He somehow manages to hide them in his coat again, and he starts walking towards the voice. Dean somehow manages to force his feet to move, stumbling after the once more moonlit figure in front of him. It seems like the moonlight found its way to Castiel no matter where he was in the woods. They got to the pathway, and the smile dropped from Meg’s face as she recognized Dean’s. “Should have known it was you. Get back to your cabin, before I really do tell the boss.”  
“Ooh, you’re gunna tell on me?” Somehow Dean seemed to get his wits back as he says this, and he almost sighs at how lame it sounded. Almost as bad as Meg’s threat to tattle. Castiel ignores them both, and continues on his way to the cabin. Dean glances at his back, and flips the finger at Meg before following after Castiel.

“You two better not have been smoking anything back there! There’ll be a sweep of the woods once a day every day and if they find anything I’m putting your names out there first!” Meg’s empty threats barely registered in Dean’s mind as he began to realize what had happened.

Dean had kissed a boy… _and he had liked it._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh god, I honestly didn't think I was going to write a new chapter this early... But I really liked this idea and I kept with it and here we are!  
> I hope I'm not changing Castiel too much, trying to make him badass!cas but also still... Cas... is difficult. Am I doing well? Tell me in the comments below!

**Author's Note:**

> There may be more chapters in the future! I'm leaving it a bit open-ended for that purpose.


End file.
